Dissent
by lusicaa
Summary: "To his bewilderment, Arthur Pendragon suddenly found himself sitting on the ground in the middle of the forest, completely and utterly alone." Something strange is happening to the prince, and Merlin might be his only hope. Too bad Merlin is also a sorcerer. POV of both, rated T for one minor incident later on.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! This is the first chapter of my newest story. I have it all planned out, but I'm still in the process of writing it. Updates will be irregular, as usual... sorry!**

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CHAPTER ONE

To his bewilderment, Arthur Pendragon suddenly found himself sitting on the ground in the middle of the forest, completely and utterly alone.

He found that he had no memory of any recent events, including how he had gotten there. He supposed he must have just woken up, but he could recall neither losing his consciousness nor regaining it. He simply found himself existing rather abruptly.

His mind wasn't completely gone, he noted with relief. He knew he was Arthur Pendragon, prince of Camelot, and that his father was the king. He knew that he was a knight, that he had been trained to kill since birth, and that he was very good with a sword. (He noticed that he didn't have his sword, which made him nervous). He knew that the king's ward was like a sister to him, and that he spent his time yelling at his obnoxious servant and doing other important things. He knew enough to be sure that he hadn't lost his memory, an affliction which Gaius had once described to him. Yet he could not remember how he had gotten here, and it was beginning to concern him.

He assessed his situation. He was wearing a plain tunic and basic pair of pants, but his usual armor and sword were gone. In fact, he had no weapons on him at all, which was rather worrying. He looked around; the typical generic trees and shrubs surrounded him, with nothing else in sight. He reached out to push himself off the ground, but faltered and cried out as his hand seemed to fall through the earth. He recoiled his arm, looking back to see if there was a hole he had accidentally put his hand through, but found only flat, hard dirt looking back at him.

Tentatively, he put his hand back on the forest floor and pushed, but this time, his hand stayed where it was. Feeling even more confused, he pushed off of the ground and stood, taking in his surroundings from his new vantage point. It only took a moment to notice a break in the trees not too far away, and he began walking toward it, feeling a strange, dreamlike quality to his steps.

The forest was eerily quiet as he made his way through the trees, and only a few steps later, he found himself on what was clearly a path, probably used recently, judging by the broken branches and scuff marks in the dirt. His tracking instincts took over, and he walked a bit farther, examining the ground as he went. He decided that somebody had come through here on foot earlier the same day, probably carrying a heavy load. He wasn't sure how that information helped him, but it made him feel a little more sane to know he could still track.

He set off down the path, noticing how already the sunlight was beginning to fade. He knew how dangerous the woods could be at night, especially for a man lacking weapons, and he knew he had to keep moving and try to find his way back to Camelot before it got too dark. After a few minutes, he realized that his surroundings had become more familiar, and he was fairly positive that he knew where he was. It was as he realized this that he suddenly recalled passing this same way earlier. He tried to think as he walked; what was it he had been doing?

" _Hurry up, Merlin! We haven't got all day!"_

Pieces began coming back to him. He had been out riding with Merlin. They were on horses, he could remember that much, and they'd had their overnight bags with them. That was it—they had been on a hunting trip together. Arthur had needed some space from all of the princely duties, and he had decided to go hunting to let off some steam.

" _Arthur, why can't we just stay here? The patrol hasn't been in that direction for a while, maybe we should—"_

" _Don't be such a baby, Merlin! And anyway, your complaining has scared off all of the animals for a mile. We'll have to move if we want to eat tonight."_

He had wanted to travel farther east than usual. He tried to think harder as he walked. He remembered stalking a deer for over an hour, only for it to escape into the brush. He remembered stopping at a stream to water the horses and laughing as Merlin almost fell in. He remembered Merlin noting a strange rock formation which he claimed resembled a bird. He remembered more and more things as he travelled, but they were all details. He pushed his mind, trying to remember something important, something that would tell him how he had gotten here.

 _Merlin was chattering as usual when Arthur heard a noise up ahead._

" _Merlin!" He hissed, indicating to be quiet when the servant turned around. They pulled their horses to a halt, listening. They both heard it this time—something was walking up ahead. Arthur dismounted quietly and drew his sword._

Had they been attacked, or ambushed? No, that wasn't right. He remembered now—it was two men, on their way home. Fishermen, that was what they were. They had conversed briefly, and told Arthur something important.

He struggled to remember what it was they had told him. He remembered the feeling he had after hearing it, a sort of unease, but he couldn't recall what it was. He thought of their tired faces and empty bags. It had to do with the bags, he was sure of it.

It was only after a few more minutes of walking that it came to him. A warning. They had warned him to stay out of the swamps. Their bags had been empty because of the creature that prowled the waters, that attacked fishermen and stole everything they caught. They had warned Arthur to stay out of the marshes, as it waited in the mud and water to prey on anyone foolish enough to go near it.

" _How many times is it going to take before you start listening to me when I say something is a bad idea?"_

 _Arthur sighed. "It is my duty to protect the people from harm, and if what those men say is true, then I cannot allow this creature to continue terrorizing my people."_

 _Without waiting for Merlin to come up with a retort, he urged his horse ahead, leaving Merlin to try and catch up._

They had eventually reached a swamp. He remembered how unstable the ground was, how they'd been forced to dismount and lead the horses behind them so they didn't sink into the ground with each step. There were holes of various sizes spread about, some small enough to step over and some too big to jump across, all filled with murky water. He remembered Merlin pushing a branch into one and being surprised to find that it never hit a bottom, no matter how far down it went.

" _Keep an eye out," Arthur hissed, feeling a sense of unease. There was no movement anywhere, no sign of life, and it felt unnatural. He handed the reins of his horse to Merlin so that he could hold his sword out in front of him. They carefully continued on, watching for any movement, but the water was still all around them. As they ventured further, the ground became more and more unstable. He could tell the horses were having trouble walking, but there was nothing to tie them to._

The memories were flowing easily now, and with every step he took he remembered some more.

 _He was just beginning to wonder how much farther they would be able to go before there was no solid ground left when something burst out of the water a few feet away._

 _With it came an awful shrieking noise, making his ears hurt after the long silence. Behind him, he heard the horses scream, and he turned to see them skittering backwards, trying to get their footing. He turned back to face the creature as it flapped awkwardly through the air, its wings beating furiously to hold it aloft and its long tail whipping around. Arthur held his sword up defensively, causing the creature to shriek again. He was forced to duck down and cover his ears. The noise also caused the horses to leap up, yanking Merlin along with their halters, and Arthur watched as Merlin lost his footing. He fell into one of the pools, his head almost slipping under for a moment before he managed to grab onto a clump of grass._

" _Merlin!"_

He remembered the panic as he had to turn away and fend off the creature. It was slightly smaller than one of the cats that stalked the alleys of Camelot at night, and its awkward movement made it impossible to follow or attack. It would lurch about the air and then disappear back into the water, only to reemerge soon after from a different pool. Arthur had managed to help Merlin pull himself out of the water, and not a moment too soon, as Merlin had cried out in alarm as it snapped at his ankle just before getting out.

 _The horses were long gone, and they both crouched there, panting, waiting for it to appear again. Every pool around them was now a potential death trap, and they were careful to stay on solid ground wherever they could find it. Arthur's sword was at the ready, and Merlin had grabbed a branch which he held tightly in his hand. A few bubbles surfaced in one of the nearby pools, and Arthur's eye immediately trained on the water. He began quietly walking toward it, hoping to stab the creature as it came out._

 _Suddenly, he heard gurgling right behind him. He tried to turn but his body wouldn't react quickly enough, and there was a split second in which he realized his mistake and knew he was doomed. But the pain he was expecting didn't come. As his body finally caught up with his mind, he turned in time to see Merlin appear right behind him, hitting the creature with his stick and deflecting it from Arthur's back. It screeched and flew straight at Merlin, who stumbled backwards and fell over, narrowly missing a collision with its pointed tail. It lurched past and flew straight back into another pool with a loud splash, and Arthur stumbled over to Merlin, who was holding his foot and grimacing._

Merlin's ankle was twisted, and while it was not a major wound, it had obviously been painful. Even now, as Arthur walked along the path, he could clearly recall an image of Merlin hissing as he tried putting pressure on it, even though he had refused to remain sitting. Arthur had realized that they needed to get out of the swamp and come back when they were more prepared to fight this creature. As they tried to travel back towards solid ground, however, it quickly became clear that Merlin couldn't move very quickly on the squishy ground with his injured foot. Arthur had put the servant's arm around his neck and tried to help him, but they were still going dangerously slowly, and it prevented Arthur from keeping his sword out and ready. He remembered arguing with Merlin about it.

" _Just go, Arthur! I'm useless, I'll only slow you down."_

" _I'm not just going to leave you here, you idiot, what kind of knight do you take me for?"_

 _Still, Merlin stayed where he was. "You're wasting time, it will be back any moment. I can take care of myself, just go on already!"_

 _Arthur was about to retort angrily (or maybe just grab him) when the water next to them erupted. He barely had time to react before it came at him, shrieking as usual, and he tried to duck, but its swinging tail caught him in the neck. The pointed end of the tail was surprisingly sharp and he felt like a dagger had pierced his skin. Almost immediately a wave of nausea came over him, and he began to feel weak. His hearing seemed to fade, the screeching of the creature sounding muffled as he lost his balance and fell over. The one thing he did hear was Merlin screaming his name from somewhere farther away. As his body collapsed to the ground, he looked up to see Merlin yelling at the creature with his hands stretched out—and—and the creature was thrown back by an invisible force—_

Arthur realized he had frozen mid step. He was confused.

What had he just seen?

His memories must be mixing with dreams, or hallucinations, or _something_ , because what he had just re-witnessed could _not_ be real, not even a little bit—

But it was. He remembered seeing it, seeing the gold in Merlin's eyes, before he lost consciousness. He remembered it clearly. Never in his wildest imaginings could he have made such a thing up.

Merlin had magic?

He stood there for a minute, just trying to wrap his mind around it. Merlin. Merlin, his idiotic serving boy, was a sorcerer. He knew magic. How was this even remotely possible?

No matter how he thought about it, it didn't make any sense at all. No way, his mind kept telling him, there was absolutely no way Merlin could know magic and he, Arthur, not have found out before. Merlin couldn't keep a secret for his life.

And yet, he couldn't shake the image from his head. Merlin throwing his arm up, Merlin's eyes glowing. The creature being hit by an invisible force.

There was no way he could have imagined it.

Thinking back, he realized that it was rather strange that Merlin always survived everything. He rarely carried a sword due to his awkwardness with it, and he never wore any sort of armor. But he was always with Arthur when there was danger, always nearby when they were fighting. And he never got a scratch. Arthur thought it was because he was good at hiding, but now that he thought about it, he realized how bizarre it was. Either Merlin was extremely lucky, or…

Or he was a sorcerer.

Anger welled up in him. He thought he knew Merlin. He had known there was something about the servant that he couldn't quite place, but he'd never imagined it could be… _this_. He had trusted Merlin. He had trusted him with his life. Because as strange or idiotic as the man could be, he always showed absolute loyalty and devotion. He was a good servant, a better friend. Yes, Arthur had treated him almost like a _friend_ , despite how obnoxious he usually was.

How well did he really know Merlin?

If Merlin was a sorcerer, then it must all be a lie. Everything. When they first met, and Arthur fought him in the marketplace—had Merlin the Sorcerer been toying with him? This entire time, all the years since then, had Merlin just been pretending to be his friend while laughing at him behind his back, waiting for the moment when he could finally stab Arthur in the back? Was Merlin plotting some evil scheme to kill him and his father, to destroy Camelot? Wasn't that what all sorcerers wanted?

Arthur had to admit that it sounded pretty ridiculous, considering what an idiotic goof he was. But how else could he explain it? Why on earth would a boy with magic purposefully come to Camelot, where his very existence was illegal, and then spend years loyally serving the royals who hunted his kind? Perhaps he really _was_ just idiotic enough… but no, Arthur knew that Merlin was wiser than he seemed. While he often acted like a buffoon, he had proved how clearly he saw the world and the people in it, and how serious he could be when they were in trouble. He was no fool, or at least not enough of one to live in Camelot without realizing how dangerous it was. Which meant that either he had a death wish, or he was planning something.

Arthur noticed that he had stopped walking. If Merlin was evil, then he had to get back and warn someone. He set off again at a brisker pace. The sky was getting darker, but he hardly noticed. What if he had woken up in the forest because Merlin had abandoned him here? Maybe it was all some sort of plan to get rid of Arthur. Maybe he had conjured up the creature. Maybe he had _wanted_ it to attack Arthur. Maybe—

Arthur shook his head slightly. His thoughts were getting away from him. They had fought the creature together. It had almost gotten Merlin once or twice, and Merlin had helped defend Arthur. It didn't seem like he wanted it to hurt Arthur. And anyway…

Arthur recalled the scene as he fell unconscious yet again, but it wasn't the gold eyes that he thought about. It was the scream. He heard Merlin screaming his name as he fell. It was a sound of pure terror that haunted him even now, walking alone in the forest. It certainly didn't sound like the cry of someone whose evil plan was being fulfilled, or someone who wanted him hurt. _Add that to the list of things that don't make sense_ , he thought. He closed his eyes and watched in his mind as Merlin threw his arms up, still yelling, his eyes filled with equal parts panic and rage. He had been so angry, so violent—was he angry that the creature had hurt Arthur? Why? Maybe he needed Arthur for whatever he was planning. Or maybe he wanted the pleasure of killing Arthur himself, and didn't want some stupid animal to do it for him—

He was getting ridiculous again. If Merlin wanted to kill Arthur, then he had certainly had plenty of chances in the years they'd been together. It wouldn't have been that hard for a sorcerer, especially on solo hunting trips like this one. Merlin didn't seem to want him dead yet, but that didn't mean he wasn't plotting something bigger. He could even be working as a spy for someone else. Either way, he was dangerous and—

A branch snapped. Arthur froze. He reached for his sword, only to remember that he didn't have it. Huge, scorpion-like beasts appeared from behind the trees, scuttling in Arthur's direction.

There was nothing he could do, no time to come up with a plan. He must have walked straight toward them without paying attention. He stood in the middle of the path, not daring to move a muscle, waiting for the serkets to smell him and attack.

One stopped next to him to poke at something on the ground with its pincers, its stinger poised in the air. Arthur barely breathed. Any moment now, it would notice him—it was so close, he could almost reach out and touch it—

The serkets scuttled on, back into the trees, off in search of other food. Arthur didn't move, too shaken to continue. They had been so close. How had he escaped with his life? Serkets could smell fresh meat from a whole league away, and were known to prey on lone travellers. So why hadn't they attacked him?

He decided now was not the time to dwell on it. The light was fading fast, and he couldn't expect his strange luck to last if he ran into anything else. He had to get back to Camelot before he was attacked, and before Merlin had the chance to do anything bad.

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It wasn't long after when he found a familiar part of the forest and gained his bearings. He emerged from the forest on the road to the city just as the sun was reaching the horizon.

He approached the gates, waiting for the two guards stationed there to say something to him, but they were silent as he passed by. He wasn't sure what he had expected; cries of alarm, rushing off to tell the king that his son had returned, even just a respectful nod would have been nice. After all, he was probably a mess and wearing nothing other than a tunic and some britches. Surely they must realize that something was not right. He made a mental note to bring it up with the king later and see that the guards were given a talking to.

He continued on through the quiet town, passing few people due to the late hour. He saw more guards the closer he got to the citadel, but none of them so much as looked at him. It was unsettling, but he felt it would make him look stupid to ask any of them about it. He crossed the square just as the last people were leaving it, and was even more confused when he realized that not a single one of them said anything to him. _Is something wrong?_ he wondered, watching an old woman push a cart past him silently and head towards the lower town.

Not knowing what to make of it, he headed into the castle. He stopped, wondering where he should go first. He needed to find out if Merlin was in Camelot, but he couldn't just go charging off looking for him. Merlin was a sorcerer, and as such had to be treated as a dangerous threat. Especially now that Arthur knew what he was, the sorcerer might try to kill him before he could report it to the king. No, the safest idea was to find Uther first and warn him, so even if Merlin got to Arthur, the truth would be out and he would be stopped. Mind made up, Arthur set off toward his father's chambers.

However, once he arrived, he found them empty. It was getting late, and Uther had usually retired by now, so where else would he be? Arthur reasoned that the next most likely place to look would be the throne room; perhaps he was attending a late matter of court. The prince decided that he should stop at his chambers to grab a sword, just in case he ran into Merlin on the way there.

When he reached his chambers, he was surprised to find that the door was unlocked and partially open. He could see a soft orange glow coming from inside. Why was someone in his chambers, and why would they get a fire going? Could it be Merlin? He was one of the few people who had a key to the room, although, being a sorcerer, he probably didn't even need it.

Quietly, Arthur peered around the corner of the door, dreading the familiar black-haired figure that he was sure he would find. But he saw no sign of a raven haired servant. At first, he saw nobody at all. Then, to his surprise, he saw his father sitting in a chair beside the fire.

Something about the situation did not sit well with him, but that feeling was drowned by the relief of encountering his father instead of Merlin.

"Father," he said, walking forward. "What brings you to my chambers?"

The king didn't respond, and continued staring into the fire. He must not have heard.

"Father," Arthur said louder, "There is something I need to tell you. It is extremely urgent."

Uther ignored him. Arthur paused, unsure what to say. Was Uther angry at him? Was this some sort of punishment for something he had done?

"Father, I believe there is a sorcerer in the castle."

Still no reaction. Arthur frowned. Normally that would throw him into a rampage. Why was he doing this? He was acting as though he couldn't even hear Arthur speaking to—

Arthur suddenly had a thought. Slowly, he walked forward until he was standing in front of the king. Uther's eyes were distant and unfocused. With a sinking feeling, Arthur waved his hand in front of the king's face. He didn't so much as twitch an eye, and his gaze remained faraway.

Arthur felt fear creep into his gut. Something was wrong with his father. It must be some sort of sickness, or maybe an enchantment—could Merlin be behind it? Oh god, he was too late, his father was already enchanted—

"My lord?"

Arthur turned to see Morgana standing in the doorway, peering in tentatively.

"Morgana," he said quickly, "we have to get Gaius, there's—"

"Ah, Morgana."

Arthur whipped back around. Uther was looking directly at Morgana. So he wasn't sick or enchanted after all… but then why was he ignoring Arthur?

He turned back to Morgana. "What is going on?" he demanded. "Why is he—"

"Is he alright?" Morgana cut him off.

"How should I know," Arthur said annoyedly, "if he… won't…" His voice trailed off as he saw that she wasn't looking at him, but past him at the king.

Uther sighed, looking weary. "It's hard to tell. Gaius is looking in his books as we speak."

But Arthur hardly heard, as he was staring at Morgana.

"Oh god," he said aloud, "not you too."

She sat down in the chair next to Uther's without responding. Arthur was trying not to panic. _What was happening?_

Morgana looked up at Uther. "What happened, exactly? I only heard that he was injured."

"He was out on a hunting trip," Uther replied heavily. "Apparently, some sort of creature attacked him and his manservant. The boy survived and carried him back, but he remains unconscious."

Something was extremely wrong.

"The servant says that he hasn't woken at all since the attack, and Gaius is trying to find out why."

Something was very extremely terribly wrong.

"All we can do for now is pray." Uther turned his head to look at the large bed across the room. With a sinking feeling, Arthur followed his gaze.

There was someone lying in his bed.

"I'm sure he will pull through," Morgana said. "He always does."

Arthur walked over to the bed, his throat extremely dry. He took in the blonde hair, the pale skin, the familiar face.

"Arthur is resilient that way."

Arthur stood next to his own bed, staring down at himself.

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 **A/N: I am going to shamelessly beg for feedback here, not because I like attention, but because I want to improve. Part of the reason I'm on here is so that I can improve as a writer, and that's not going to happen unless you tell me what you think. So please, I encourage you all to criticize it for me. Please. Tell me what you didn't like, what you did, if any of it was confusing or awkward, if something didn't make sense.**

 **Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance if you plan on reviewing. You guys rock. Glad to know the Merlin fandom is still thriving!**

 **\- Switz**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm sorry, it took so long for this, but my life has been insane with school and college applications (shout out to fellow seniors in the same boat). I swear, give me another two weeks or so and I will have so much more free time to work on this. Chapter three is already halfway done, so it shouldn't be too long. In the meantime, enjoy.**

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CHAPTER TWO

 _This must be a dream._

That was why he didn't remember how he ended up in the forest. That was why he thought he saw Merlin doing magic. That was why everybody was ignoring him. That was why he was now staring down at a body that looked exactly like his. Because none of that could actually happen. None of it was real. It couldn't be. It was all in his head.

So why couldn't he make himself wake up?

He pinched himself, he hit himself, he concentrated extremely hard, he tried everything he could think of. And though none of it hurt as much as he thought it normally should have, he was still standing in the exact same place. Uther and Morgana were by the fire, talking quietly to each other now and then, and Arthur just stood where he was, trying to figure out why this was happening. Whenever he realized he was dreaming, he always, _always_ woke up immediately after. This time, he was stuck in the nightmare, unable to escape.

He realized that it must not be a dream after all. Somehow, everything was real. Including the other Arthur.

He stared down at his own face, feeling the wrongness in his gut. Who was this person? It definitely looked like him, but he was currently standing next to his bed, not lying in it. It must be some kind of imposter.

It had to be magic. There was no way someone could make themselves look that similar to the prince without using a spell. Was Merlin involved? He was apparently the one who had brought the fake Arthur back, after all. Had Merlin put a spell on Arthur as well so that he was invisible? That would explain why everybody ignored him; they didn't know he was there. But why would he do so? What was the point of all of this? If he was planning on replacing the prince with an imposter, why not just kill the real one? It didn't make sense…

Unless he was planning something bigger.

Arthur thought quickly. He had to find out what Merlin was up to, and if he was behind all of this. But if he was right, then Merlin was dangerous. He had to make sure that he would be safe before he went in search of the sorcerer.

He walked back over to the fireplace and stood directly in front of Uther and Morgana, who were both silently staring into the fire.

"FATHER!" He bellowed suddenly, "MORGANA!"

Neither one moved. Even though he had expected as much, he felt his hopes fall just a bit.

With one last look at the fake Arthur, he turned and left the room at a swift pace.

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Uther had said that Gaius was looking for a cure, which meant that Merlin was probably with him. He had no clue whether Gaius knew that Merlin was a sorcerer or not, much less if he was in on any evil plans the servant had. He doubted it, but considering he would never have believed Merlin could be capable of such evil until today, he realized that he could no longer rely on what he thought he knew of anyone.

He strode down the familiar route to the physician's chambers, finding it strange to see people pass right by him without realizing he was there. It had occurred to him that since Merlin was a sorcerer, he might be able to see through the invisibility spell, especially if he was the one who had cast it in the first place. Arthur realized that he would have to be very careful until he knew for sure how much of a threat Merlin posed.

When he reached Gaius' chambers, he found the door partway open, but he remained outside and peered in silently. He could see Merlin sitting at the table with his head in his hands and his back facing Arthur. There was a bandage wrapped around his leg and he had a book open in front of him. Arthur wasn't expecting him to be laughing with glee or smirking evilly or doing anything ridiculous like that, but he was definitely surprised to see Merlin looking so dejected. And why was there a bandage on his leg if he could heal it with magic? Was it just for show?

Gaius suddenly walked into view, holding another book. He bent over to show Merlin one of the pages.

"What about this one?"

Merlin lifted his head to look, but put it down again a second later.

"No."

Gaius sighed. "We'll find it eventually, Merlin. It has to be in one of these books."

"This is my fault," Merlin said, his voice slightly muffled.

"Merlin—"

"It's like the questing beast all over again. Only this time there's nothing I can do."

 _This time?_ Arthur was confused. Arthur remembered the questing beast incident—he had been unconscious for days before Gaius found a remedy that saved him. But what had Merlin done? Had he used magic somehow?

"Merlin," Gaius said in a stern voice. "Look at me."

After a pause, Merlin lifted his head again and looked up at Gaius. The miserable look on his face surprised Arthur. He could only recall a handful of times when Merlin had ever looked so upset.

"This is not your fault," Gaius said firmly. "You did all you could. You're not infallible, you know. You can't protect him from everything."

Merlin was protecting him?

"And anyway, he's not dying yet—"

"That we know of," Merlin muttered.

"He's not dying," Gaius repeated, "and we don't want a repeat of the questing beast. So there's no need to run off and do something foolish like last time."

Merlin looked incredulous. "Foolish? I was trying to save his life! You think I was being _foolish_?"

"I do. You should never be so quick to throw your own life away, even if it's to save a friend. Especially when you know it's risky."

"But it worked!"

"It worked in the end," Gaius corrected. "But you knew it was dangerous to trade your life for his, and you did it anyway. And we all know how that turned out."

Merlin's face turned sheepish. Arthur's mind was spinning. Merlin had tried to save his life… by sacrificing himself? _What_?

"Uther wants a report within the hour," Gaius said. "So keep looking through those books."

Merlin hunched back over his book, and Arthur stared at him through the crack. Merlin was a sorcerer. He was supposed to be planning evil schemes and trying to kill Arthur.

Apparently, he was willing to die to keep the prince alive.

Arthur tried to tell himself it might still be part of a bigger plan to ruin Camelot, but he knew it wasn't true. _Even if it's to save a friend_ , Gaius had said. Merlin considered him a friend, not an enemy or a target. A _friend_. And everything about Merlin's actions, even his demeanor, reinforced that fact.

He had attempted to trade his own life for Arthur's. He had screamed in terror when he saw Arthur collapse in the swamps. He had carried Arthur all the way back to Camelot on a twisted ankle just to get him to Gaius, when he could have gone for help on his own and returned for the prince later.

And now that he thought Arthur was lying in bed unconscious, he was feeling guilty and worried. Because he was supposed to be protecting Arthur.

Arthur suddenly recalled vague instances in the past when Merlin had made a comment about protecting him. He had always laughed it off, even though it sometimes seemed like Merlin didn't think it was a joke. He had been completely serious all along. Deadly serious. And Arthur had never known.

Arthur didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Here he was, faced with one of the most loyal, dedicated, selfless friends he had ever had. And that friend was a sorcerer.

 _Why, Merlin_? He thought to himself. _Why would you learn magic?_ Surely he knew how evil it was, how it corrupted people and turned them cruel and power hungry. How it made them do things that they wouldn't have done before, things they should regret. How it was a power that could never be harnessed, that only brought harm on the people around it. Why would Merlin, the most innocent, peace-loving person he had ever met, choose to embrace such a power?

Maybe Merlin really was an idiot. Maybe he encountered it somewhere and thought he could control it, use it for his own purposes. Whatever Merlin had done to save Arthur's life after the questing beast, it sounded like it involved magic; maybe he wanted to use it to protect Arthur. After all, how else would he protect the prince? He was no warrior, and there wasn't much else he could do against danger otherwise. So he must be using magic to protect Arthur.

 _Stupid, naive Merlin_. He must have believed that he could control the power enough to stop it from corrupting him. In fact, Arthur wondered how he had gone this long without turning evil. Perhaps Merlin was just such an innocent, caring person that it was having a hard time corrupting him. But Arthur knew that it was only a matter of time, and it would happen eventually. It always did.

He decided not to turn Merlin in. He wouldn't allow the man to be burned at the stake just for being so dedicated. But he couldn't allow it to continue. He had to intervene, and save Merlin from his own fallacy. He would put a stop to the magic.

Of course, he had to find a way out of the current predicament first. In fact, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Merlin was a sorcerer. There was definitely something magical going on here, and it would be helpful to have a sorcerer on his side, at least until they found a way to fix it. Not to mention he needed to find a way to stop being invisible.

With that in mind, he pushed the door open. Or, at least, he tried to, but it seemed to be stuck; the darn thing wouldn't budge, so he gave up and slipped through the narrow opening.

Maybe Merlin, being a sorcerer, would be able to see past the enchantment. He knew that probably wasn't how these things worked, but it was still possible. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking at Merlin still hunched over his book and Gaius standing a few feet away, sorting through a stack of more books. Gaius hadn't noticed him, not that Arthur had expected him to.

"Merlin."

He waited for something to happen, even a hint of recognition from the servant, but he continued to read his book. Arthur frowned.

" _Merlin._ " He tried again, louder. Still nothing. "Answer me, damn it!" He felt a tiny bubble of hope blossom as Merlin lifted his head slightly, brow furrowed, but he looked at the window, not at Arthur. Then he put his head right back down again and resumed his reading. Arthur wondered for a moment, wondered if it could have been because he heard Arthur, but some part of him knew it was just wishful thinking. He felt his chest deflate as he lost what little hope he'd had. He hadn't realized until now how much he was relying on the theory that Merlin could hear him, because he was suddenly very much aware of how alone and helpless he was.

Arthur tried not to panic. His mind began scrambling for ideas, trying to think of something he could do. He had to get someone's attention. Should he try to write a note? _Dear Father,_ he imagined, _the man lying in my chambers is not your son. He's an imposter. I am the real Arthur, but I'm invisible and nobody can see or hear me._ Yes, he could easily imagine how Uther (or anyone, for that matter) would react to seeing such a note. He would think it was some imbecile trying to trick him with a ridiculous story. He would never believe it, especially when the imposter looked so much like Arthur. Nobody would believe it. It sounded ridiculous, even to him. And even if someone did believe it, so what? There was nothing they could do to help him if they couldn't even see him.

He was useless. He couldn't do a single thing if he couldn't communicate with anybody. All he could do was watch in silence. It was like in the stories he was told as a small boy, when the oblivious knight would enter the lair of the monster, having no clue that he was walking into danger. Arthur remembered listening in suspense, wishing he could enter the story, warn the knight not to go, and prevent it from happening. But he was always just an observer, and he could only listen in dismay as the brave knight was stalked and hunted. Now, Arthur was feeling the same feeling, but it was for the people around him, the people he cared about. This time, it was real. And there was nothing he could do.

Merlin closed the book with a loud _thump_. "It's not in any of these," he said tiredly. "Have you found anything yet?"

Gaius sighed. "No, I'm afraid not. We will have to tell the king."

Merlin got up and followed Gaius out, the drag in his step apparent. Arthur watched in misery as they walked straight past him and out the door.

* * *

After realizing he had nothing better to do, Arthur followed them back to his chambers. Gaius and Uther stood near the bed, while Merlin stood nearby, staring at the floor. Arthur remained across the room from them all, feeling strangely disturbed by the sight of his own sleeping form.

"We haven't found anything yet, sire," Gaius said, "but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. It must be in my books somewhere—"

"And if it is not?" Uther hardly bothered to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Then we will find another solution," Gaius said patiently. "There is really nothing to worry about yet, sire. He is in no danger—"

"Gaius, he hasn't woken once!"

"We must give it time. He is otherwise completely healthy—no major wounds, no infection or sickness, no sign of any ill health…"

Arthur stopped listening as they went on. It was only depressing him.

This was a disaster. Everybody seemed to think that Arthur was currently lying in bed, unconscious. There was no reason for anyone to believe otherwise. Whoever had done this had made sure that Arthur was helpless, that he could do nothing but watch as their plans unfolded. But why? Why not just kill him? Unless…

Arthur had a horrible thought. Merlin had been there when he was knocked out, and then had brought him back to Camelot. Merlin believed the person to be the real Arthur. How could the two princes have been switched if Merlin was with him the whole time?

Maybe it wasn't an imposter. Maybe the person lying in bed was really him. Maybe…

Maybe he was a ghost.

Arthur looked down at himself. He held his hands up to his face and looked at them. They looked just as real, just as solid as ever. Weren't ghosts supposed to be transparent, or white, or something? He thought he recalled hearing that somewhere. He certainly didn't look or feel like one, although that didn't count for much since he had no clue what it was supposed to be like. And anyway, didn't you have to be dead to be a ghost? As Gaius kept pointing out, his body was completely alive and well.

Arthur thought some more, and recalled that ghosts could supposedly pass through objects. He couldn't do that, right? He walked over to his breakfast table and looked at one of the tall candles. Dreading the result, he reached his hand out to touch it. It was with extreme relief that he found his fingers did not pass through. He could feel his fingers touching the wax. He was starting to feel better, so he tried to pick up the candle.

Nothing happened.

He grabbed the candle firmly and pulled. It didn't move, though he could feel his hand gripping it. No matter how hard he tried, the candle remained where it was. What did this mean? Was he a ghost after all?

He stared at the candle. It sat there taunting him. He grabbed it and pulled with all his might, but it refused to move. He yanked with both hands. Nothing.

" _DAMN IT!_ " He screamed, slamming his fists on the table, the frustration and panic bursting out of him. If the table felt the force of the hit, it didn't show it. There wasn't even a sound from his hands hitting the wood. The two voices behind him carried on their conversation, oblivious to his outburst. It was like he wasn't even there, like he didn't really exist, not in the same way that they did.

"Yes, sire, you have my word that Merlin and I will continue to search for a remedy. We are just as distressed as you."

"Thank you, Gaius. I am grateful to you. And to your ward as well—for carrying Arthur back—"

"..."

He began to wonder if maybe he really _wasn't_ there, maybe he _was_ dreaming after all, maybe this was just a crazy hallucination—

"Merlin..."

How long would he be stuck like this? Would it be forever? Was he doomed to stalk the halls as a silent observer for the rest of his life?

"Merlin."

Gaius sounded annoyed. Arthur turned, and almost had a heart attack.

Merlin was staring directly at him.

" _Merlin_!"

Merlin snapped out of it and turned to look at Gaius, who cleared his throat. He stared blankly at the old man until Gaius made a subtle motion of his head toward the king. Merlin looked at Uther, who was staring at him with a slight frown on his face. Merlin's ears turned pink and he hastily bowed, wisely choosing not to say anything.

The king seemed to think nothing more of it—perhaps he was too used to Arthur complaining that the servant was a bit wrong in the head—and he bid them both goodnight. Taking the cue, Gaius bowed and left the room quickly, practically dragging Merlin out with him.

Arthur ran after them.

He emerged into the corridor just in time to see Gaius hit Merlin on the head and mutter something to him before stalking off. Merlin, rubbing his head indignantly, began to follow him.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out, his heart still beating madly.

Merlin didn't stop, but he turned to look over his shoulder, his brows drawing together. Arthur watched, hardly daring to breathe, as Merlin's eyes searched the empty corridor.

His gaze passed right over the prince, and after a few seconds, Merlin turned and ran to catch up with Gaius.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright guys, you know the drill. I am actually inviting criticism here. Please tell me if you have any complaints or advice on how to improve. Even if it's just a personal thing, let me know; all the feedback helps and I won't be insulted. Please. Anything. I want to get better as a writer, and only you can help me do that.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, as usual; you guys always make me smile. Hope you're enjoying the fruits of my labor so far! New chapter will be up ASAP.**

 **\- Switz**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yeah, sorry I lied about updates. I got totally derailed by Miraculous Ladybug and life in general. I'm continuing this story now, though, so it's no longer on hiatus. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I just wanted to get it published.**

 **Also, in response to some reviews, keep in mind that this takes place somewhere in the first or second season, and Arthur was still a huge immature jerk.**

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Merlin had a hunch.

He hadn't said anything to Gaius about it yet, because he knew what the physician would say. Without any solid proof, Gaius would disregard it completely, and Merlin didn't even have a reasonable _theory_ , forget about proof. It was just a hunch he had, a ridiculous feeling that he knew he should probably ignore.

And yet, how many times before had his hunches ended up being right?

Even Gaius would have to admit that Merlin had a strange instinct for predicting things before they happened and sensing danger, especially if it involved magic. And it was entirely possible that magic was involved in this instance. No matter what Gaius said, Arthur's condition was unusual and the chances that it was natural were shrinking the longer he went without waking up. They had even tried waking him up by waving strong herbs under his nose; usually, such a trick could rouse even the deepest of sleepers, but this time it had no effect on Arthur.

It began when he first realized that something felt off about Arthur. He had just returned to the castle and was anxiously watching Gaius check the prince over when he realized that there was something about Arthur that just felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but there was something about the man lying in front of him that was unsettling. It was like something was… missing.

It wasn't until later that he began to form a crazy idea. While Gaius tried to soother Uther, Merlin had stopped listening after a while, instead trying to think back on all the spells he had learned, in case there was one that could wake people. He was staring at the ground, lost in his own thoughts, when the hair on the back of his neck suddenly prickled and his magic rose up inside of him as though reacting to something. His head shot up instinctively; he let his magic guide his eyes, and found himself looking at the table on the other side of the room.

Even though he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, he knew for sure that he was looking in the right place. Whatever had made his magic react had come from that exact spot—he could somehow still feel it, although the sensation was dissipating. He continued staring at the space right in front of the table, waiting for something to happen, trying to find what it was that caused him to react, until he realized that Gaius was calling his name and had to look away.

By the time he glanced back, the feeling was completely gone, and then Gaius was dragging him out and scolding him for not paying attention. And then he felt it again. It was much more subtle this time, just a slight tingle of his skin, but still noticeable now that he knew what to look for. He looked back, but again, there was only empty hallway behind him. He followed Gaius back to his chambers, but he couldn't shake the feeling from his mind. He lay in bed thinking about it all night, and that was how he developed his hunch.

Because the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his magic hadn't felt defensive; if anything, it felt desperate, like it was trying to reach out towards whatever was in the room. Like it had recognized something… or someone.

Merlin knew that he had no proof whatsoever. The notion was pretty far-fetched, and he knew that trying to describe it would make him sound ridiculous. Even Gaius would never believe him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had been there in the room with them, something that his magic had seen even if his eyes couldn't.

And he had a pretty good feeling about who that something might be.

If there was nobody to turn to, then the only thing he could do was find proof himself. The sun wasn't even up yet when he gave up on trying to sleep and instead pulled out his magic book. He spent an hour or two looking through the entire thing, but didn't find anything that would help him. Gaius was still snoring lightly outside his door, so he crept out of his room and began searching through the titles in Gaius's library. He pulled out a few that sounded promising, sat down, and began to read.

By the time Gaius got up, Merlin had gone through two of the books already and was avidly looking through the next. "Merlin," he said with a slight frown, "how long have you been up?"

Merlin just shrugged and kept reading. After a moment, Gaius seemed to decide not to say anything more on the matter, until he noticed what Merlin was reading.

"Why are you looking through that? You're hardly likely to find anything on the creature in there. That's all superstitions and legends."

Merlin hesitated. "I just… we might as well be thorough, right? You never know when a mention of some strange creature will come up."

Gaius didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't argue, either. He went to get dressed while Merlin finished the book and moved on to the next one.

He was only a few pages in when something caught his eye. There was an illustration of a shadowy figure whose edges were out of focus. Pulling the book closer, he carefully read the old script alongside it.

'S _íen hwæm andweardnes dæl.'_

Interested, he turned the page and read on. This seemed to be exactly what he was looking for. There was a recipe listed, and he noticed with relief that all of the ingredients could be found in Gaius' stores. Reading over the instructions, his excitement faltered when he realized that it might be beyond his ability as a potion-brewer, and required a complicated spell to finish it. He could probably ask Gaius to help, although he had a feeling that the physician would not be enthusiastic. Gaius was very disapproving of taking risks, especially when it came to dangerous potions; there was no way he would agree to follow a mysterious recipe just so Merlin could act on a hunch. He would probably even take steps to prevent Merlin from making it, and there was no way he would let Merlin use magic in the castle. No, the more he thought about it, the more Merlin was sure that he would have to do it without Gaius knowing.

As Gaius came back towards him, Merlin casually closed the book and opened a new one about medicine. He pretended to look through it for a few moments before suddenly looking up and putting a concerned expression on his face.

"Gaius," he said, acting like he had just remembered, "don't you have a patient to check on?"

Gaius looked down at him and arched an eyebrow. "Like who?"

"That girl in the lower town, with the fever. Weren't you just saying yesterday that you should go check on her?"

Gaius' eyebrow stayed where it was. "I suppose," he said slowly, "but why are you so keen on the idea?"

Merlin shrugged innocently. "I just don't think you should neglect your other patients because of Arthur. It reflects badly on me when you let people die, you know, since I'm your ward and all."

Gaius continued to stare at him quizzically for a moment, but then sighed and turned away.

"You do have a point," he said, picking up his bag. "I really should see if she needs another dose of that potion. And perhaps the fresh air will clear my head..." He began collecting bottles and herbs, and Merlin tried to contain his relief. He hadn't exactly been expecting it to work.

He sat and idly looked through the book until Gaius was ready to leave. "Keep looking," he said to Merlin on his way out, "and I'll be back in a while."

Merlin waited until Gaius' footsteps had faded away, and then sprung into action. He flipped the book back open to the recipe and was soon bustling around the room gathering supplies. He had a limited amount of time before Gaius returned from the lower town, and he knew he wouldn't get a chance like this again for a while.

For the next hour, Merlin tried to find a balance between following the directions carefully and still working quickly. He didn't want to miss a step or do something wrong, as the results could be poisonous, but it was definitely above his ability level. He felt that he did a fairly decent job regardless, having watched Gaius make many potions before, and by the time he finished, the liquid was only slightly cloudier than the book said it should be.

He stuck his head out the door to check that the hallway was clear. There was no sign of anyone, so he closed the door and went back over to the table. He read through the incantation once more, just to be sure he had it right, before lifting the potion with both hands and holding it up in front of him. Staring intently at it, he searched for the magic in him, flexing it like a muscle, pulling it up and out of him.

" _Eac þys wyrteceddreno, ic háwe þæm ungesewen._ "

He let the words flow from his mouth, trying to fill them with power. He felt his eyes glowing, and focused all of his attention on the cup. When the spell was finished, he peered down into the potion to find it was glowing lightly.

Now that it was finished and he was holding the potion in front of him, the idea of taking it suddenly made him nervous. He hadn't taken the time to really think about what he was doing until now; what if he had really messed it up? Maybe he didn't add enough deir root. Or he didn't crush the petals enough before adding them. Maybe he pronounced part of the spell incorrectly. What if it was poisonous? Maybe, Merlin thought, his resolve faltering, it would be better to wait, and take it later instead…

 _No._ Merlin forced himself to think about Arthur. Arthur, his friend, was dying. He had to do this. And he had to do it now. If Gaius came back, he would certainly stop Merlin from taking it. And the potion was still glowing; if he didn't do something with it soon, somebody might notice that it was magical and ask questions.

He poured it into a cup and held it up, studying it. It didn't smell wonderful, but he had certainly tasted things far worse from Gaius. Trying not to cringe, he pinched his nose and downed the contents of the cup before he had the chance to think more about it.

The book hadn't said much about the effects of the potion, so he wasn't sure what was supposed to happen. He didn't feel very different, other than the awful taste in his mouth. He looked down at his hands; nothing had changed. Why wasn't it working? Would he have to sit around all day waiting for something to happen?

Merlin was just beginning to wonder if the recipe was wrong when a strange tingling began in his chest. The sensation slowly spread to other parts of his body. His relief that it was working slowly turned to concern when the sensation became uncomfortable, and his skin turned hot in some parts and cold in others. Merlin felt himself growing light headed, and his vision blurred slightly. He had just enough time to think that perhaps he _should_ have told Gaius about the potion, and then spots began to appear before his eyes. He tried to grab the table, but his arms were slow to respond, feeling very heavy.

 _I must have gotten it_ really _wrong_ , he thought vaguely, before his vision blacked out and he fell to the floor.

* * *

Arthur was bored.

He had followed Merlin back to the physician's chambers and spent the rest of the night yelling and waving his arms, but nothing seemed to work. Other than the occasional glance around the room with a furrowed brow, Merlin was too wrapped up in his books to notice, and by the time he went to bed, Arthur had given up. Maybe he would try again tomorrow, but there was no point staying if Merlin was asleep.

In his strange state, he himself didn't seem to be capable of sleeping, and it would be hours before Merlin got up again. He had initially been at a loss as to what he should do in the meantime, until he remembered that he was _invisible_.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Arthur was mildly excited by the idea of wandering around Camelot unobserved. Throughout his life, there had been brief moments where he had managed to sneak up on some villagers or catch some servants joking around, and it was enough for him to realize that people did not act naturally around him. It was why he enjoyed visiting taverns on the outskirts of the kingdom anonymously, not to mention one of the reasons he had grown so close to Merlin; most people did their best to be obedient and submissive around royalty, but Merlin went out of his way to be honest, even if his honesty was disrespectful. In fact, it only made Arthur more curious about how people acted when he wasn't around, and with his newfound invisibility, he had the perfect opportunity to find out.

So Arthur had spent the rest of the night wandering the castle, but found that spying wasn't as interesting as he'd expected. The guards barely spoke, and when they did it was about very brief, mundane topics; the servants were all busy doing chores, and only talked of finishing and getting some sleep. Everyone else was asleep, and Arthur was left to entertain himself in some other manner. He decided to explore the castle instead, which was ultimately a more fruitful endeavor than he expected. He found new hallways he hadn't known about before, inspected the contents of old storage rooms, and found some exceptional hiding places (not that a prince ever needed to hide in his own castle, of course).

However, his interest in exploring was quickly exhausted, and as soon as the sun came up, he went to the lower towns to observe the people. He followed peasants as they went about their business, listening to the chatter and watching them interact, but it quickly became apparent that this wasn't very exciting either. They didn't say anything very interesting while walking down the street, and even if he had been comfortable with the idea of entering their homes, he was unable to open any doors.

It was a very bored and irate prince who made his way back to the physician's chambers, having spotted Gaius walking down the street and hoping that maybe Merlin was awake as well. Then Arthur could… well, he could continue yelling and waving his arms like a buffoon until Merlin somehow figured out that he was there. Hopefully. Arthur still wasn't sure if it was even possible, but the way Merlin had stared directly at him last night was the closest he had come to communicating with anyone.

He had only been stuck like this for a short amount of time, and yet he had already found himself longing for the feeling of somebody looking him in the eye. When Merlin had done exactly that, it had caught him off guard. He couldn't forget the hope and excitement that had choked him in that moment, before Merlin turned away and the spell was broken, metaphorically speaking. If there was any chance of letting Merlin know he was there, then he had to fight for it.

As he reached the door to Gaius' chambers, he was annoyed to find it securely shut. He still couldn't get in without someone else opening the door. He put his ear up to the crack, hoping to hear something, but there was no sound, only a strange smell. _That lazy oaf is probably sleeping in_ , he thought to himself. _Typical_. He didn't feel much like going back out, so he settled down against the wall with a grumble, prepared to wait until someone opened the door.

It turned out that he didn't have to wait very long. After only a little while, Guinevere turned the corner, and Arthur jumped up. To his annoyance, however, she kept walking past the door, clearly on her way somewhere else. Arthur sighed heavily and sat back down.

Suddenly, Gwen stopped in the middle of the hall. He watched her curiously as she stood still for a moment with her back to him. Then she turned her head to look at the door, and seemed to sniff the air. She turned around and walked to the door, pushing it open, and Arthur started to get up again, puzzled but relieved.

"Gaius?" she called, peering around the door. Then she gasped. Arthur watched in confusion as she threw the door open and ran inside. He jumped up and ran after her, wondering what the matter was. As soon as he reached the door frame, however, he froze.

Merlin was lying face-down on the floor, and he wasn't moving.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll have the next part up pretty soon. I mean it this time. Hopefully within the next two weeks.**

 **As always, please criticize anything you can. I appreciate any feedback I can get. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I KNOW THIS IS SUPER LATE AND I'M SORRY. I just had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. Still not entirely happy, but it's progress (finally)!**

 **Oh, and also, I went back and edited a few things. Some of you (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) will be glad to hear that Arthur no longer refers to Merlin as a "boy" when he's thinking. And I finally fixed the hyphen/emdash mix up. Also, I may have gone crazy with the emdashes in this chapter, so sorry in advance.**

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

Arthur watched from the door as Gwen ran to Merlin's side, trying to turn him onto his back. Merlin remained unnaturally limp, and despite his thin frame, it took Gwen a minute of struggling to get him over. Arthur wanted desperately to help, but he already knew he couldn't do anything. He sank to his knees across from her, staring at Merlin's pale face and closed eyes. _What happened?!_

Gwen was calling his name and placing a hand on his forehead, while Arthur sat there, worrying. If something had happened to Merlin… No, Arthur begged silently, he had to wake up. Arthur needed him to fix whatever was happening. Not only that, but he had just found out that Merlin was the most loyal servant he'd ever had, and he hadn't even gotten the chance to confront him about it. He needed Merlin to wake up.

"Merlin? Merlin!" Gwen kept calling.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then tentatively patted him on the cheek. He didn't respond, so she did it again, this time with a little more sureness. Still, there was no reaction, and he continued to lay there.

"Merlin," she said again, and Arthur could hear the edge in her voice. He looked up at the sound, and some part of him wondered if, were she able to see him, the fear in her eyes would be reflected in his own. He could only feel a sense of detachment, his body immobile from shock. He saw that her apron was gone, and noticed for the first time that she had placed it under Merlin's head at some point, trying to provide a layer of protection between him and the cold, stone floor.

Suddenly, something in Gwen's eyes shifted. She slapped Merlin with all her might, the sharp sound ringing out in the quiet room. Arthur jumped slightly, surprised by the sudden ferocity of her hand. He hadn't known she had that much power—or anger—in her. But he didn't have a chance to dwell on it, because a second after she hit Merlin, Gwen gasped.

Arthur's eyes shot back to the body lying between them. Merlin's eyebrows had scrunched together in pain, and he seemed to be stirring. Arthur relaxed back, while Gwen reached up with one hand to cover her mouth. Her eyes were glazed over with the vaguest hint of tears, and for a split second, Arthur could see clearly that arresting Merlin would have affected more people than he originally realized.

Merlin groaned. His eyes cracked open and stared groggily at the ceiling for a moment; then his gaze focused, and his eyes seemed to drift for a moment before they landed on the prince.

"Arthur," he mumbled, his voice raspy.

Arthur froze. Once again, Merlin was looking directly at him, but this time he'd actually said his name. Arthur didn't know what to do for a moment. He started to open his mouth, but he was cut off.

"Arthur is still in bed, Merlin," Gwen said gently, and Arthur jumped—for a second, he had forgotten that she was there.

Merlin broke eye contact with Arthur to look at Gwen. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he blinked a few times. "...Huh?"

"He's in bed," she repeated as she helped him sit up, "he hasn't woken up yet. And it's you I'm worried about, not him. What happened?"

Merlin stared at her for a moment with a strange look on his face, before something seemed to click. "Oh. Yeah. Um—what was I… Oh!" Merlin rubbed his head. "I—uh—I must have… fallen asleep."

Arthur nearly snorted, but Gwen just looked upset. "Merlin, you were on the floor! And I was trying to wake you up, and you were just laying there, as if—as if you—"

"Gwen," he said, cutting her off, "I'm fine. I probably just passed out."

"Passing out is not something to take lightly, Merlin, you could have injured yourself!"

"Really, Gwen, I'm fine, I promise—"

As Gwen continued to fret, Arthur noticed that Merlin was keeping his eyes directly on her, like he was refusing to look away. It was odd, but Arthur wasn't sure what to make of it. Even as she helped him stand up on somewhat shaky legs, he kept his head turned towards her. Arthur also stood up, wondering if he was just overanalyzing.

"...see? I feel great. Nothing to worry about."

She helped him onto a bench, giving him a worried look. "I don't know, Merlin. I think we ought to fetch Gaius. Do you know where he is?"

"He, uh, went to check on one of his patients in the castle," Merlin said, and Arthur frowned. He had just seen Gaius in the lower town, not the castle.

"I'll go find him," Gwen said, already rushing out. "Stay here until I get back."

Merlin waited until the sound of her footsteps disappeared, then stood back up and walked over to the door. Arthur watched curiously as he stuck his head out to look around, then closed the door and latched it. Why did he look so suspicious all of a sudden?

Merlin turned around.

"Hello, Arthur."

Arthur froze again.

For the third time since he woke up in the forest, Merlin was staring directly at him, and this time, he'd addressed the prince, too. Arthur waited for Merlin to look away again like he always did, but this time, nothing happened. Merlin was still there, and he was still facing the prince.

"...Merlin?" He responded tentatively.

Merlin grinned. "I knew it. I knew you were here."

Arthur still hadn't moved. "You… you can see me?"

"I could see you as soon as I woke up," Merlin said. "I thought you knew—I looked right at you."

"Well, you've done that before," Arthur said, observing Merlin's surprise at this statement, "so I didn't get my hopes up. But—wait, you've known I was here since you woke up? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh—yeah—" Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Gwen said that you were still unconscious, and I realized she didn't know you were there, so I just decided not to say anything about it. You know, in case she, uh… hmm," he trailed off, rubbing his head absentmindedly, then changed the subject. "Why can't she see you? How long have you been… you know…?"

"All I know is that I woke up in the forest yesterday," Arthur said, "and when I got back here, nobody could see or hear me. Everyone thinks I'm lying in bed right now, unconscious."

"Well, I mean, you are."

"I know," Arthur replied, hoping that Merlin didn't notice the hint of actual fear in his voice. "At first I thought someone else was pretending to be me, but… I'm starting to think it might actually be _me_ in there. Or at least… my body." Arthur hesitated, worried that Merlin might call him crazy, but the servant just looked thoughtful.

"Anyway," Arthur said, not wanting to dwell on such an unsettling topic, "why were you on the floor?"

Merlin tensed. "So, uh… you weren't here when I passed out?"

"Clearly not, or I wouldn't be asking."

He seemed to relax. "Well, like I said, I was probably just tired."

Arthur scoffed. "Nobody sleeps that deeply. You didn't wake up until Gwen hit you."

"Gwen _hit_ me?"

"Only because you were dead. Or at least, you seemed to be. There's no way you were just asleep."

Merlin looked uncomfortable again. Rather than answering, he went back to rubbing his head in a self-conscious manner.

"Actually," Arthur said, crossing his arms over his chest, "how is it that you could suddenly see me when you woke up?"

"What?"

"I was yelling at you last night, and you didn't hear me. Then suddenly you almost die, and when you wake up, you can see me. What happened?"

Merlin's eyes flickered to something behind Arthur before looking away quickly, but the unconscious gesture was not missed by the prince, who followed his gaze. There was a discarded cup lying on the floor under the table. Arthur looked back at Merlin, who suddenly looked nervous, and pieces began to click in Arthur's head.

"Was it a potion?"

Merlin's gaze snapped to Arthur's in surprise. He looked like he was going to deny it for a moment, but then he deflated. "I didn't know it was going to knock me out."

"And it's because of some potion that you can see me?'

"Well, I would assume so."

Arthur shot him an exasperated look. "Then why didn't you just… say…" He trailed off, a thought occurring to him. If Arthur's condition was an enchantment, and Merlin had taken a potion that let him see past the enchantment… well, he didn't know much about magic, but it seemed obvious that it must have been a magical potion.

No wonder he was being so nervous and evasive. He couldn't let anyone know that he was a sorcerer, and it was fairly evident that he had done something magical in order to see Arthur. And that was probably why he hadn't said anything to Gwen, either! Suddenly it all made sense, and Arthur almost hit himself for not thinking of it earlier.

 _No point beating around the bush_. "Merlin," he said imperiously, "I know about the magic."

Merlin's eyes widened in fear. "I—I'm not sure what you mean—"

"Yes, you do," he said in his best no-nonsense voice. "You have magic, and you've been using it to protect me."

Merlin's mouth hung open, and Arthur was tempted to warn him to close it before a bug flew in.

"Don't look so surprised," the prince said airily. "Did you really think that I wouldn't find out?"

Merlin looked completely dumbstruck, and in any other situation, Arthur would have laughed at his expression.

"You—" Merlin struggled for words. "How—how do you know?"

"I know everything, Merlin." Arthur paused for effect. "Also, I saw you attack the creature just before I lost consciousness. Your eyes turned gold and you fought it off. I saw the whole thing."

"And… you're not… angry?" Merlin asked tentatively, looking hopeful.

"I suppose I was, initially." Arthur hesitated, wondering if he should mention that he had been prepared to arrest Merlin, but he decided against it. "However, I came to understand why you use it, and how loyal you are. I cannot condemn you for such actions, even if you broke the law. In fact, it's probably a handy asset to have in our current situation."

"So, you're—you're okay with it?"

There was a moment of silence. Arthur saw the hope in his manservant's eyes, and felt his heart sink. He'd hoped that Merlin would understand without being told, but it seemed that he would have to do this the hard way.

"Merlin," he said, trying to sound kind and stern at the same time, "surely you realize that I can't let this continue."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and then the hopeful look on Merlin's face was gone. "...What?" he said hoarsely.

"Well, as your prince, and—and your _friend_ , I can't simply watch you go down this path of corruption. The magic has to stop."

As he spoke, Merlin's eyes had taken on a deadened look that made Arthur uneasy. "I thought you said you understood."

"Well—I do, Merlin, I understand why you wanted to learn magic, but understanding is not the same as approval."

"And you don't approve." He whispered. His face was strangely empty, but Arthur got the feeling that something was boiling inside of him. He didn't understand why Merlin was reacting this way. He had imagined that Merlin would just be glad that the prince was willing to forgive him for studying magic and lying—yet now he expected Arthur to turn a blind eye and let it continue? Or even to _condone_ it?

"What did you expect me to say?" Arthur asked incredulously. "'Keep up the great work'? 'I think you'll make a great sorcerer'?" He shook his head in frustration. "Merlin, I've encountered magic many times in my life, and every single time, it has only been made more clear to me that magic is dangerous. I can only assume you were foolish enough to study it because of your sheltered upbringing, but—"

"'Sheltered upbringing?'" He repeated, his voice sharp. "I knew you were a royal _ass_ , but I didn't realize just how high your horse was, _sire_."

Arthur scowled. "Look, it sounds harsh, but you can't pretend that you gained a lot of experience growing up in that little village. I know all about magic—I've grown up with it, I've witnessed it firsthand. You can't pretend that such a provincial childhood offered you the same exposure to the world that mine did."

Merlin's expression had grown darker and uglier with each word. His thin frame was tense, almost trembling, whether from nerves or some other emotion, Arthur didn't know.

"You have no idea..." Merlin growled.

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur snapped, beginning to lose his patience, "there's nothing to debate. Once you learn magic, there is no space for goodness in your heart. I have seen it happen before, and I will not let it happen to you."

"Hasn't it occurred to you," Merlin said mutinously, "that _I_ haven't turned bad yet? If magic corrupts everyone, then how do you explain me?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, annoyed that Merlin had found the one loophole he couldn't account for, "but it's only a matter of time—"

"So what, you think I'm just going to suddenly turn evil on you?"

Again, Arthur was reminded of his initial reaction to Merlin's magic, and the vague guilt he still felt about it irked him. "No—not exactly, anyway—but you haven't seen the things I've seen. It's inevitable, magic corrupts everyone—"

"I'm proof that you're wrong!"

"It probably just hasn't had enough time to get to you!"

"TWENTY YEARS WASN'T ENOUGH?"

"...Merlin?" said a new voice.

They both whipped around to look at the door, where Morgana was leaning in with a bemused expression on her face.

"Lady Morgana," he greeted, and Arthur marveled at how instantly the servant could smother his emotions and revert to his usual carefree manner.

"I ran into Gwen," Morgana said, giving him a strange look. "She said that you'd collapsed, so I came to see how you were."

"I'm feeling much better," Merlin assured her. "I was probably just tired—"

"I also heard yelling."

"Yelling?"

"Yes, just now, when I came in."

Merlin hesitated for a split second, probably wondering how best to explain that the real Arthur was actually invisible and in the room with them. Although, to be fair, if the prince were in her shoes, he would probably ignore Merlin, or ask if he'd been on the cider again.

"Ah. That would have been me. I was… arguing."

"Arguing?" They both noticed Morgana briefly glancing around the room, confirming that Merlin was alone.

"...with the table."

Morgana gave him a very strange look. So did Arthur.

"You were arguing… with the table," Morgana repeated slowly, her voice incredulous.

"It tripped me," Merlin supplied, "and I almost broke a vial of herbs as a result, so I was telling it off."

Arthur could hardly believe what he was hearing. Merlin was lying. He wasn't going to tell Morgana about Arthur. He hadn't even stopped to think about it—was it just second nature for him to lie? And not only that, it was the most ridiculous excuse he had ever heard.

...Or was it? The more he thought about it, the more he remembered very strange, unusual excuses Merlin had given him, which he had just chalked up to Merlin's usual eccentric ways. But now he found himself wondering—how often had Merlin been lying to him, or covering up what he was actually doing? How many times had Arthur accepted his ridiculous excuse and let him get away with it, even though it was clearly a lie?

Morgana was looking very skeptical. "Gwen shouldn't be too long with Gaius," she said after a moment. "Should I stay until they get back?"

Arthur snorted; clearly, she thought that Merlin had knocked his head on something when he fell.

Merlin ignored Arthur and shook his head quickly. "No, no, I'm fine. Like you said, it won't be too long. I'll just keep looking through some books until they're back." He motioned at the table full of books to emphasize his point, and Morgana's face seemed to fall ever so slightly as her eyes fell on them. Arthur could tell that she was thinking of the prince's state, and he wished he could comfort her.

Merlin seemed to come to the same conclusion. "He'll be alright," he told her quietly. "We'll figure it out."

She looked up at Merlin in surprise, probably not expecting him to guess what she was thinking. She schooled her expression into a sad smile. "Get some rest, Merlin."

Merlin assured her that he would, and she left, closing the door behind her.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Arthur demanded.

"Tell her what?"

"About me!"

Merlin gave him a look. "You really think she'd believe me? She clearly thought I had brain damage as it was. And even if she did believe it, that brings up the question of how I know that you're invisible, and how I, of all people, can see you. Which then leads to people finding out I have magic, which leads to me being killed, which leads to you being stuck like this forever."

Arthur was silent while he processed this. Though he hated to admit it, Merlin had a point. Arthur hadn't thought that far ahead, and he was surprised that Merlin had had enough time to do so in the brief moment before choosing to lie. How often did he have to make decisions on the spot like that to become so good at it?

Neither one of them spoke, and Arthur could feel the tension in the air between them. He wanted to insist that Merlin stop being foolish and just agree not to study magic anymore, but the anger which had erupted from his servant before had been unexpected. How could Merlin not have expected this? Even when he knew exactly how much Arthur despised magic?

After figuring out that Merlin wasn't evil, he had been sure that he understood his manservant; now he wasn't so confident, and that was what kept him from speaking. He wanted to push the subject, but was worried that Merlin would fly off the handle again. The space between them felt like it was growing, and Arthur had no idea what to say that might bridge the gap rather than widen it.

Ultimately, it was Merlin who broke the silence. "I was born with magic, Arthur."

Arthur opened his mouth, and then closed it, frowning. "What… I don't—I don't understand what you're trying to say."

Merlin sighed. "I'm not trying to say anything. I was literally born with magic. I'm a warlock."

The foreign term made him uncomfortable—it sounded like 'warlord'. "But—what does that _mean_?"

"I was able to use magic before I could walk," Merlin said. "I didn't choose to learn it. I was born with it."

"That's not possible," Arthur said, his brows knitting together. "You have to study magic."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot I was speaking to an expert here."

Arthur flushed. "Listen—"

"No, you listen. I was born with magic, alright? I've had it my entire life. You think you know better because you've battled a couple of angry sorcerers before and watched many more die, but I've had it for my entire life and, as you said yourself, I haven't been corrupted."

Arthur scrambled to think of an explanation, and in his silence, Merlin continued.

"Magic isn't evil," he said. "It just… is. Saying that magic can only be used for evil is like saying metal can only be used to forge weapons. It isn't true, of course—we use metal to make goblets, jewelry, armor, and everything else you use on a daily basis. Metal is just a raw material, and it's the choices of the person using it that make it dangerous."

"You can't compare metal to magic," Arthur retorted hotly. "Metal is available to everyone. If someone comes at you with a sword, you can use another sword to defend yourself. Magic is selective, and if a sorcerer uses magic against you, then there's nothing you can do about it. It creates an unfair advantage."

Merlin shook his head. "Anyone can learn magic, it's just much harder for some than for others. I happen to be a natural, while others spend years learning before they can do anything. But isn't it the same with sword fighting? You're a skilled fighter, but it would take me a lifetime to learn how to use a sword. We all have advantages and disadvantages."

"That's not the point—"

"I'm not trying to argue that magic is always good, Arthur. Of course it is used for evil, but that's the choice of the sorcerer. Magic doesn't have to be used for evil, and it doesn't influence a person's morality any more than political power does."

Arthur gave him a sharp look. "Are you trying to imply something?"

"No," Merlin said. "I'm just trying to get it through your thick head that magic doesn't corrupt people."

But Arthur wasn't listening. Merlin had suggested that political power could influence someone's morality, and the only person in Camelot who fit that description was the King.

"If you honestly believe that magic isn't evil," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes, "then do you think my father was wrong to start the Purge?"

Merlin fell silent. They stared each other down, the question hanging in the air between them.

"I was born with magic, Arthur." Merlin said quietly. "By your father's laws, my very existence is illegal. What do you think?"

"You're suggesting that the King, _my father_ , killed hundreds of people who were _innocent_. Thousands, even."

"Maybe I am."

Arthur glared at him. "Not everyone is like you, Merlin! You said yourself that you're an exception. Most sorcerers choose to learn magic, and they're the ones who need to be stopped. They attacked the city, they killed people. They had to be punished."

"How many?" Merlin snapped. "How many actually committed crimes beyond simply having magic?"

Arthur glowered, but didn't respond. A small part of him was beginning to wonder that too, and he didn't want to wonder. He believed in his father, and had helped him catch and execute many sorcerers over the years. To think that there was any chance that they had been wrong… well, he refused to consider it without proof.

Arthur took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn't want to consider any of this right now. Born with it or not, Merlin couldn't just continue using magic in the middle of Camelot. Arthur still wasn't convinced that magic wouldn't eventually corrupt him, and even besides that, it was far too dangerous for both of them; if Merlin was ever discovered, he would be killed without a second thought, and it would be very bad for Arthur if his involvement was discovered. Merlin may not have had the choice to be born with it, but he did have a choice in whether or not he _used_ it. And it was now Arthur's responsibility to make sure that he didn't use it.

But seeing the defiance in his manservant's expression, it was clear that Merlin didn't understand or agree with him. And there was nothing more he could do about it until they fixed… whatever it was that was wrong with the prince. Once Arthur was back to normal, he could try to talk some sense into Merlin, but right now, it was clear that he wasn't going to get through to the idiot, and they had more important things to deal with.

"Alright, Merlin," he said finally, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you're a—what was it you called yourself?"

"Warlock."

"Right. So if you're a _warlock_ , then… isn't there anything you can do about all of this?"

Merlin stared at him for a moment, his eyes unreadable. "Like what?"

"I don't know, I'm not the bloody sorcerer here."

"Clearly," he said.

"Can you do anything or not?"

Merlin gave him a sour look. "No, because I have absolutely no idea what is wrong with you. You're lucky I figured out that you were here at all. At least now I have a better idea of what to search for."

"Search for?"

Once again, Merlin motioned to the piles of books on the table. "There's this thing called _research_. It's what Gaius and I are generally subjected to whenever something goes wrong."

Arthur glared at him. "I swear, Merlin, as soon as I'm back to normal, I'm going to—"

That was the exact moment when Gaius chose to enter his chambers, causing them both to jump in surprise. Arthur cut off abruptly, and it was a moment before he remembered that Gaius couldn't see or hear him and he could have finished his threat; but by then he had forgotten what he was going to say, so he settled with glaring at his manservant, who had turned to greet Gaius with the most innocent look he could manage.

* * *

 **A/N: Please criticize anything you can. I'll love you forever. And I'll try to get the next one up, but I'm heading to college soon (EEEK) so idk what my schedule will be like.**

 **(WRITING IS HARD *sobs*)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: As usual, I am far too late, and I apologize. I'm running into some difficulties with the story, and I might go back and make some minor adjustments so it's a little more believable.**

 **I'll put some more notes at the bottom; for now, enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

Naturally, Gaius was suspicious.

"I'm fine," Merlin tried to assure him yet again. "I probably just fell asleep. Nothing to worry about."

To nobody's surprise, Gaius had one eyebrow raised menacingly. "Gwen sounded very concerned."

"You know how girls are," Merlin said. "She saw me on the ground and assumed the worst. Frankly, I'm offended that she didn't believe me when I said I was fine."

Arthur snorted, and Merlin had to force himself not to turn around and glare at the prince.

"You always say you're fine," Gaius pointed out. "Even when it's not true. And she knows it."

Merlin sighed. Gaius was a difficult person to deceive, and he somehow always knew when Merlin was lying to him. It was uncanny. And frustrating.

"Also," Gaius continued, "it seemed that she had been specifically searching for me throughout the _castle_ , when we both know I was in town. Any idea who could have told her to look there?"

"Not a clue."

Gaius glared at Merlin. Merlin smiled blandly back. Arthur crossed his arms and sighed.

"Merlin," Gaius said sternly, "what did you do?"

"Nothing."

"If you used magic—"

"I didn't!"

The denial was too quick, and they both knew it. Merlin cringed internally as he saw Gaius narrow his eyes, but it was Arthur who spoke first.

"Wait—Gaius _knows?_ "

Merlin risked a glance in his direction, and saw that the prince looked flabbergasted.

Great.

"Whatever you did," Gaius said, oblivious to Arthur's outrage, "it better not have been something stupid and dangerous."

"When have I ever done anything stupid and dangerous?" Merlin retorted automatically, still distracted by the look on Arthur's face. He could tell the prince was thinking deeply, and if it weren't for Gaius, he would have snapped at Arthur to stop before he caused himself injury.

Gaius glared at him again, and his brain finally caught up with what he'd said.

"Fine. Don't answer that. But at least I always know what I'm doing."

Gaius sighed. "I'll ask you one more time, Merlin. Did you use magic while I was out?"

"Hold on," Arthur cut in. Being the self-centered prat that he was, he didn't seem to care that Merlin was busy trying to hold a conversation with Gaius. "If Gaius knows about your magic, then why are you lying to him?"

Merlin hesitated. Loathe though he was to admit it, Arthur had a point—he didn't _have_ to lie to Gaius. But he usually tried not to involve his mentor in these things unless it was absolutely necessary, both to save Gaius from being caught up in something terribly illegal, and to save himself from one of Gaius' infamous lectures.

"I'm offended, Gaius," he finally said. "I already said that I didn't. You people have so little faith in me." He shook his head like he couldn't believe that Gaius would doubt him.

"You are one of the most irritating people I've ever met," Arthur informed him sourly.

The look that Gaius was sending him suggested that he felt similarly, but the old physician knew how to recognize a lost cause. He let out a resigned sigh, although Merlin had a feeling that the subject might come up again later.

"Make sure you go to bed early tonight," Gaius said, walking past Merlin to replace the contents of his bag to their proper shelves. "Did you at least make any progress on Arthur's condition before you collapsed?"

Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look.

"No, I, uh… I think I fell asleep pretty soon after you left."

"Tell him," Arthur said, putting his hands on his hips. Merlin made a shushing motion at the prince while Gaius had his back turned.

"Don't worry, we'll keep looking," Gaius said absentmindedly, still fussing with some bottles.

" _Tell_ him."

 _Be quiet_ , Merlin mouthed with a scowl.

Arthur looked affronted. " _Mer_ lin, you can't just—"

Merlin cut him off quickly. "Um, just give me one second, Gaius… I think I left my… thing… in my bedroom…" He trailed off vaguely, and ran up the stairs to his room before Gaius could protest. He waited the few moments it took Arthur to catch on and follow him inside, then closed the door behind them.

"It's a mess in here, Merlin," was the first thing out of Arthur's mouth. He cast a disdainful look around at the clothes and books scattered about.

"Yeah, well, I'm usually too busy cleaning up after you to do anything about it," he snapped, his carefree facade slipping away as his irritation resurfaced. "Your chambers would be far worse than this if you didn't have me doing all the legwork—"

"Why aren't you telling Gaius that you can see me?" Arthur interrupted, rounding on him, and Merlin scowled, wondering if the prat had even bothered listening. "He knows you have magic—which, I might add, is something we are going to discuss later—so what are you trying to hide from him?"

"I'm not _hiding_ anything."

"Merlin, you were lying to his face."

"Thanks for the reminder," Merlin replied crisply, before taking a deep breath; sarcasm was not going to help either of them. "Yes, I was. It's just—it's easier not to involve him."

Arthur gave him a disbelieving look. "And how do you figure that?"

"He…" Merlin struggled to put it into words. "He gets overprotective sometimes. And he's not very keen on me using my magic."

"Why not?"

"Why do you think?" Merlin said incredulously, looking at Arthur like he was stupid. "If anyone ever catches me, your father will throw me on a pyre and have me burnt to death. Or did you forget about that?"

He felt a guilty satisfaction when Arthur winced slightly. At least the arrogance and superiority had slipped from his face.

"So, obviously," he continued, "Gaius doesn't approve of me using my magic for… well, anything, really. Unless there are lives at stake, and science has completely failed us."

Arthur frowned. "So you're lying to him because he'll be angry with you?"

"What? No," Merlin said, "I mean, partially. Look, he hates getting involved in these things, so I usually try to keep him out of it. He won't be any help, he'll just lecture me and forbid me from using magic. He doesn't like breaking the law."

"Merlin," Arthur said slowly, "you do realize that we're talking about a man who is actively harboring a sorcerer, right?"

Merlin paused. "Well, yes, but—he still—"

"He breaks Camelot's most severe laws every single day."

"Yes, but that's different! He knows I can't help having magic, he just disapproves of me using it."

"And that's why you're not telling him."

"Yes! Wait—no—" Merlin was losing track of what he was trying to argue.

"What I'm still getting out of this," Arthur said, raising his eyebrows, "is that you lied to Gaius because you're scared of being yelled at."

Merlin could feel his ears burning. "Of course not—"

"You're worried that he'll tell you off for using magic to make that potion."

"I mean—it's more complicated than that, it's—he doesn't—" Merlin floundered for way to explain.

"This is pretty pathetic, even for you." Arthur's expression was stuck somewhere between irritation and amusement.

"Shut up, you prat," he said hotly.

"No, I won't, because you need to tell him."

Merlin glared at the floor. "You're insufferable."

"And you're being ridiculous!" Arthur snapped. "Have you forgotten that I've been _enchanted_? I'm stuck here as some sort of invisible ghost, and we don't know why or how. Gaius is the expert on these things, we need his help, yet you're keeping it from him because you're scared of a _lecture_!"

Merlin scowled. "I will tell him if it becomes necessary."

"Oh really? Because I think it's necessary right now."

"We haven't even tried to figure it out yet, we don't know if we need him—"

"Merlin, I'm ordering you to tell him immediately."

"You're not exactly in a position to be making orders, _sire_ ," he snapped before he could stop himself.

Arthur gave him a measured look, and Merlin cringed internally. That was too bold of a comment to say to any noble, and this wasn't just any noble, this was Arthur Pendragon he was sassing. Which was probably an extra terrible idea now that Arthur _knew he had magic_ , and could still have him arrested as soon as he was back to normal. But what he'd said was technically true, and Merlin had never been one to back down from a bully; he kept his head up and his gaze level with Arthur's, daring him to argue.

"Fine," Arthur eventually conceded. "You're right."

Merlin was rather taken aback. "I am?"

"This is not the time for me to be ordering you around."

Merlin tried not to look too surprised. He wasn't sure if Arthur was referring to the fact that he could not physically force Merlin to do anything, or that it didn't seem appropriate given the situation; then again, he wasn't entirely sure which one he himself had been referring to in the first place.

"However," Arthur continued, "that doesn't change the fact that we need Gaius. He might already know how to fix this. And anyway, how are we supposed to solve this without him finding out? He's bound to grow suspicious even if you don't tell him."

Merlin sighed. "Fine, I'll tell him eventually. Just… not yet."

Arthur huffed, but it didn't seem like he was going to argue again. Sensing that the discussion was over, Merlin led the way out, making sure to let Arthur slip past him before closing the door.

Gaius looked up as Merlin came down the steps. "Merlin," he said, "is there someone in your room?"

Merlin looked startled. "No," he said quickly.

"I heard you talking."

"Can't I get a bit of privacy without an old man spying on me?"

"It's hardly spying when your voice carries through the door," Gaius replied coolly.

Merlin grumbled something under his breath.

"How is it, Merlin," Arthur muttered, "that you manage to start an argument every time you open your mouth?"

"I do not," Merlin retorted, before remembering that he wasn't supposed to talk to Arthur.

Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Merlin told him after an awkward beat of silence, "we all talk to ourselves now and then. You, of all people, have no right to judge."

"What on earth does that mean?" Gaius asked.

"Don't act so innocent, old man. I've heard you jabbering away when you think nobody's around. You get wrapped up in your potions and medicine and _science_ and suddenly you're going on and on about the properties of herbs and whether or not adding a little bit more of _this_ liquid will make the potion a little bit cloudier or if maybe you should substitute some of _that_ root instead of the other and you chatter away with absolutely nobody around to hear you, except for me, of course, which is how I know about it. It's almost sad, really."

Gaius looked rather affronted. He started to open his mouth, but Merlin cut him off before he could reply.

"Oh, don't bother. If you're just going to deny it and ridicule me for thinking out loud, then I might as well go and do my research somewhere else, where I can discuss matters with myself in private. Have a nice afternoon, you old hypocrite." Before the speechless physician could react, he grabbed a pile of books and stalked out of the room. Arthur followed a second later.

"You never cease to amaze me," the prince said, falling into step beside him.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Where exactly are we going, then?"

"Er… I don't actually know," Merlin admitted, shifting the stack of books in his arms uncomfortably. "Hopefully somewhere I can talk to you without other people noticing."

"How about the library?"

Merlin stopped walking and gave him a look. "Have you ever actually _been_ to the library?"

"Of course." Arthur paused. "At least, I think so."

"Well, Geoffrey is very protective of his dusty old books. He likes to hover whenever I go in there. Plus, I don't think he trusts me after the whole Lancelot incident."

"What did that have to do with you?"

Merlin hesitated. Arthur had argued that Lancelot deserved a chance despite the laws—he probably wouldn't be too angry about Merlin's law-breaking. Probably.

"I, um… I may have been in the library earlier that day. Looking at the book of nobility."

"Merlin," Arthur said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "are you saying that you made the fake seal for Lancelot?"

"You said it yourself, he still deserved a chance to prove himself! And it wasn't his idea, if that's what you're thinking, I convinced him to lie about it."

Arthur sighed. "Fine, so the library isn't an option. Where else can we go?"

Merlin thought for a minute. "Well, your chambers—"

"No," Arthur said immediately.

Merlin gave him a strange look. "—are not an option, is what I was about to say. The king is in there constantly."

"Of course," Arthur agreed quickly.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"We could go to the vaults," Merlin said with a hint of amusement.

"Don't be ridiculous. That's both pointless and impossible."

"It might be pointless," the servant conceded with a sly smile, "but it's _absolutely_ possible."

Arthur stared at him for a moment. "Merlin," he finally said, "do I even _want_ to know how many laws you break on an average day?"

"Oh, it depends on the day," Merlin said, grinning. Arthur groaned.

"Can we please just figure out where we're going before you tell me about all the other illegal things you've done?"

"Whatever you say, sire."

They fell silent again. Arthur's brow furrowed in thought.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "We have an entire castle to use. We just need somewhere private."

Merlin looked thoughtful for a moment, then perked up. "Actually, I know a place." He adjusted his grip on the books and started walking again, and Arthur followed with a sigh.

* * *

"I've never been here before," Arthur said a few minutes later when Merlin led him down a narrow passage.

"Servant's shortcut. Pretty useful for those of us with impatient masters. Most people don't know about them."

"Huh," was Arthur's only response.

"And… here we are. Just as I expected. Completely empty."

Merlin led the way into a nondescript room, dropping the books onto a dusty table which sat in the middle of the room with a _thump_. Arthur looked around, taking in the bare walls and sparse furniture. Besides the table and the few chairs next to it, the only addition to the room was a lonely tapestry on the wall and an old chest in the corner.

"What is this room?"

Merlin shot him a grin. "You know, considering you're going to own it one day, you don't know the castle very well."

Arthur scowled. "Just because I have more important things to do with my time—"

"Don't hurt yourself, I'm only joking. Few nobles ever have reason to come down here. Actually, nobody comes down here anymore. The servants try to avoid this route thanks to some rumors that it's haunted."

Arthur paused. "Haunted?"

Merlin shrugged. "Like I said, I think it's just rumors. I certainly haven't noticed anything strange down here. But people claim that weird things happen in this corridor, so nobody ever uses the room."

"What kind of weird things?"

Merlin looked directly at Arthur. "Oh, you know," he said, "strange noises follow people around down here… the furniture moves without anyone touching it… people hear whispering behind them when they're alone… that sort of thing."

Arthur thought he felt a sudden gust of cold air. He shivered involuntarily.

"I mean," Merlin continued, "that's just what people say. But nobody will come down here anymore, not since…" he shook his head sadly and lowered his voice. "Not since that poor girl died in this very room."

Arthur stilled. "A girl _died_?"

"They say the bloodstain never came out."

Arthur's eyes flickered around the floor of the room, automatically searching for a dark stain, until Merlin snickered. His gaze shot back to the servant,who was clearly trying not to smirk.

"You—you made all of that up, didn't you?"

"You were nervous," he countered.

Arthur glared at Merlin. "Of course not. It takes more than a ghost story to scare me. And anyway, I don't believe in ghosts." As soon as he said it, however, he was reminded of just last night, when he had wondered if perhaps _he_ was a ghost. Merlin didn't need to know about that; he was already enjoying his little trick far too much.

"Alright, so nobody died," Merlin conceded, "but there _are_ actually rumors. I'm sure there's a simple explanation, but the servants of Camelot are a skittish lot and they tend to avoid this corridor as a result. So we should get some privacy here at least."

"Great," Arthur said sourly. "Now are you going to read those books or not?"

"Sounds like someone hasn't had their breakfast," Merlin said cheekily, before getting a curious look on his face. "Actually, have you eaten anything since you woke up like this?"

The thought hadn't even occurred to him. He frowned. "I—I don't think I _can_. I mean, I'm not hungry or anything, but even if I was… it's hard to eat when you can't, you know, pick things up."

"You can't pick anything up?"

Arthur shook his head. "I can touch things, but I can't move them."

A thoughtful look grew on Merlin's face. "Hmm. Hold out your hand."

"You can't just give me orders like that, _Mer_ lin—"

"Oh, just do it."

Arthur was silent for a second, before sighing and stretching his arm out, his palm facing up. Merlin poked the prince's hand.

It moved when Merlin pushed it.

"I felt that," Arthur said, then felt very stupid. Merlin, however, just looked puzzled.

"I didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—your hand moved when I pushed it, but I didn't feel anything. It's like your hand wasn't even there. Hang on—"

This time, Merlin tried to grab his hand. A strange, painful sensation shot through it just as Merlin's hand touched his, and he jerked it backwards.

"What the hell was that?" Arthur asked.

"What happened?"

"It—I don't know, but it felt _odd_."

"In what way?"

Arthur thought for a moment. "...I can't describe it, it was too quick."

"Hold it out again," Merlin instructed.

Once again, Arthur hesitated before reaching his arm out, but this time because he was nervous. The sensation hadn't exactly been pleasant.

"This time," Merlin told him, "I want you to keep your hand still. Don't let it move from where it is right now."

Arthur silently complied. Merlin reached his own hand towards Arthur's, slowly this time. As soon as Merlin tried to grip his hand, a flash of pain ran up Arthur's arm again. He tried to hold still, but he couldn't help flinching. And just like that, Merlin's hand slipped past his own. He could see that it was on the other side, but he didn't remember feeling it touch him — he only remembered the strange pain.

"What just happened?" He asked.

Merlin frowned and drew his arm back. "I think my hand passed through yours."

Arthur looked down at his hand. It still looked as normal—and solid—as ever. "Are you sure?"

"It definitely looked like it. We can try again if you like—"

"I'll take your word for it." A chill passed up his spine. "What does this mean? Am I... not real?"

"Not necessarily," Merlin said, sitting down at the table and pulling a book towards him. "I think you're real, but maybe not in the sense that you're thinking."

Arthur huffed. "Care to explain what that actually _means_ , instead of speaking in riddles?"

Merlin looked up and blinked. "Dear lord," he said, "that old lizard is rubbing off on me." Arthur couldn't quite tell if the comment was meant for him, nor did he know what to make of it, so he didn't respond. After a moment, Merlin shook his head slightly and cleared his throat. "Well," he began, "clearly, you do exist. How else could I be talking to you? So there's some part of you that is definitely _here_. But I don't think it's all of you."

Arthur felt a familiar unease rise in him. "You mean… the man in my bed. It's me, isn't it? I was right?"

"I think so. And I think I've known it for a while. I knew something was wrong when I was by your bed. It felt like something was missing, and… well, I think it was you."

Arthur quietly absorbed this information, turning the concept over in his mind.

"Then what exactly am I?" He finally asked. "A ghost?"

Merlin quirked his mouth to the side. "That, sire, is what we're here to find out. Why do you think I brought all these books with me?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You really think you can find the answer in one of those?"

"Something usually turns up," Merlin said, opening the book in front of him. "And you're in luck—I think I recall seeing something like this before, I just have to figure out where it was."

"Great," Arthur said. "And how long is this going to take?"

"Who knows?" Merlin responded, already leafing through the pages of the first book. Arthur watched him for a few moments, then looked at the stack of books. There were at least five or six more, and some of them were fairly thick. He stood there awkwardly, watching Merlin read.

"I'll just… sit here, then."

"Mmh." Merlin barely seemed to hear him, busy staring at a page covered in some language that Arthur didn't recognize.

He sighed and sat down on one of the dusty chairs, praying it wouldn't take too long.

* * *

 **A/N: I mentioned at the top that I might be going back to adjust some things. I'll only adjust minor things, but I think it will help. And I know this chapter is a little slow, but the story is about to get a lot more interesting.**

 **I know I'm pretty unreliable when it comes to updating. I never mean to go so long without updating; life gets in the way, and I run into problems with the story, and before I know it months have gone by. I really did plan this entire fic out before I even started writing it, but I like to post each chapter as I write it rather than publishing after I've finished, because I value the input I get from my readers. I like to hear the feedback from you guys and incorporate it as I go. So yes, I often take a long time to update, and I want to sincerely thank all of you who haven't abandoned me yet. I regret that I'm not a quick or efficient writer, and that I get stuck/distracted for long periods of time, but it means the world that some of you have stayed anyway. I swear I'm not giving up on this.**

 **As usual, please leave any feedback you have, good or bad. And even if I don't respond, I can assure you that I am reading every single review/message and taking them all very seriously. Thanks again for everything, guys. You're the reason I keep writing.**


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